About — Donna Louise Irvine | Scottish Landscape Artist

Man, it takes a long time to sound like yourself - MILES DAVIS

smiling at e looking at me studio door.jpg — **Me, myself** *and* hi

Young children know what they are passionate about. I saw that when I was a teacher, I see it with my own children, and now, when I think of my childhood, I see it is true of me too.
I grew up on a farm in rural Aberdeenshire, the local landmark Bennachie framed by my bedroom window. I drew. I read. I became very interested in Impressionism, Turner, and latterly the dark drama of Van Gogh’s life and work.

At seventeen I was accepted to Gray’s School of Art, moved to the Granite City and turned my back on the countryside and childish things. I forced the urban into my sketches and explored figurative work.

But I lost confidence and became unhappy creatively. It showed. My paintings became darker, thinner. Full of bleak city fragments and haunted, unfinished self-portraits.

I left art school as soon as I could, trained to be a teacher, married, moved back to the countryside, had four children. All the while, thankfully, I kept painting.

Gradually, without the pressure I put on myself to perform, a light turned on. My paintings grew brighter, playful, more colourful versions of the landscapes around me; filled with the poetry and stories I read, the dialect I hear, the songs I sing.

I paint landscapes with pride now, happily, excited to see what I will make next. Just as I did when I was a child.

It took me a long time – but now, I know how to sound like myself.

SEE THE GALLERY

ME, MY ART AND WHY

the hills are alive

Writers talk about their settings as being characters in their own right. Can that be true of the landscapes that I draw and am drawn to?

I think so.

I see my landscapes functioning in the same way as a good portrait. A strong portrait isn’t simply a visual representation. It reveals something about the essence of the person and makes the viewer care about who that person is. I want the landscapes I paint to emotionally engage the viewer in the same way.

never grow up…always down

When I was a child I would imagine that the hills and rocks were alive with personalities and faces. I would even speak to them and act out their replies. But does an artist really ever grow up? I still walk every day with the landscape around my home treating her as if she is a familiar friend. I know all her contours, I notice her mood and what she wears. I can often be found reminiscing, telling her my hopes and problems, and listening for answers.

space to spread my mind out in

I agree with Virginia. Walking is where it starts. Here I find space for my ideas, inspiration for new work, and stumble on minor epiphanies. I am particularly interested in how I experience a walk as two things at once: a push-pull relationship. In one breath, being there and appreciating the beauty of the landscape. In the next, blind to my surroundings and alone with my thoughts, memories, and emotions.

My creative aim is to find a way to show that relationship, using bold combinations of colour, mark-making and collaging fragments of text. I seek to explore how these can capture both the personality of the landscape keeping me in the moment, yet also capture how that all fades away when my thoughts intrude and I retreat inside to listen to them.

the end is the beginning of an even longer story

Yes, Zadie, it is. This is an ongoing battle, a love affair, an obsession with landscape. This is sketchbooks, canvases, ink spills, palette knife wins and lots and lots of wailing. How do I make it look like that? How?

And why?

Because she is everywhere, and, like all complex characters, she is mercurial. She doesn’t look the same on any given day, and isn’t always pleasant to be around. But she is always fascinating. Always beautiful. And so I will continue to marvel at her. I will photograph, study, spend far too much time thinking about her, forever trying to capture her portrait.

QUOTE CREDITS:

The hills are alive with the sound of music, with songs they have sung for a thousand years. - Oscar Hammerstein
Never grow up … always down. - George’s Marvellous Medicine, Roald Dahl
I am extremely happy walking on the downs…I like to have space to spread my mind out in. -Virginia Woolf
The end is simply the beginning of an even longer story. - Zadie Smith

close up of ink, dip pen, paint sunlight.jpg

clingfilm catching light corner canvas.jpg

BODIES OF WORK

The Brooklyn Art Library Project, small sketchbook work, 2020. A series of small paintings in a sketchbook exploring Clarissa Pinkola Estes' wild woman archetype ('Women Who Run With Wolves') Examines the myths and stories she explores relate to myself and the relationship I have with the landscapes that surround me.

The Bennachie Series, mixed media on canvas, 2020. Paintings inspired by the distinctive shape of hill and local landmark, Bennachie. A childhood symbol and talisman for my interest in landscape painting.

Walking Home, mixed media on board, 2020. A series of works on paper that were a response to my anxiety during lockdown, and my gratitude for the meditative benefits of routine and the landscape on my doorstep.

Paint the Town, mixed media and collage on five large canvases, 2019. Paintings of my home town inspired by drone footage and the poetry in the local Doric dialect of Huntly's Makker.

Land Escapes, oil paint on canvas, 2015. Large scale paintings exploring the drama of storm and fire.

Paraedolia, collection of oil paint on canvas, 2009. Paintings inspired by my childhood fascination with finding faces in wallpaper and Greek mythology.